Hopeful Hobo

Last week, an intoxicated hobo with a large decorative staff came into the office right around closing time. He walked through the door, waved his staff around a bit, and looked around expectantly.

"Can I help you?" I asked, like a good little employee.

"Probably," he says, with a condescending look on his face. "Probably."

Then he just kind of looks at me for awhile. As if my knowing that I can "probably" assist him is really all the information I should need.

He spends about 5 minutes getting his staff to stand up the way he wants it to against our table, then eventually wanders over to me and asks if I can make a copy of a very crumpled up piece of paper for him. Five copies, actually.

"Sure," I say. "That will be $1.06."

"Oh...I don't have any money," he says and looks at me like it's my fault. I mean, I suppose it could be, but I fail to recognize how.

I explain that it's .25 cents per copy (plus tax), sorry. So he says, "Well, I have a quarter."

"Ok, I can get you one copy for that," I say, figuring I can spot a homeless guy two cents to cover the tax. (Which reminds me...I forgot to put that in the till. Whoops. Now writing myself a note on the back of my hand.)

So I make him a copy. He then proceeds to ask if we can publish this short story, which I believe had something to do with a forlorn dog who finds happiness, in our paper.

"I think people would really appreciate that," he says.

"Of course they would," I say. I then explain that it would probably have to go on our opinion page, but we could possibly feature it as a local Lakota artist type of thing. But, this would be up to my boss. He nods, then repeats to me why he thinks it should be published.

Now, I don't know when exactly it was that I realized just how drunk this man was, but it was much prior to this point in the conversation, so I just nodded along and explained things as best I could. However at this point, I was beginning to get tired of repeating myself.

I re-show him the op-ed pages, where it could go, and he nods along saying that would be good.

"People will really like it I think," he nods again.

I tell him again my boss' information, when she's in our office, et. cetera. He says he'll come back when she's in. Then he takes his staff and stumbles out.

Fairly tame, really, compared to some of the others that have come in.

Fast forward to today. Apparently, he came in while I was on my lunch break. And asked for me. Not my boss. Me.

"Oh shoot, I can't believe I missed him...." I say to my coworker. (Yes, sometimes I'm a terrible person.)

"Oh, don't worry - he said he might stop back to see you," my coworker replies with a smile.

He did not. And none of my pages had to be re-sent. Thus I consider my day a success.

But tomorrow is only a day away...